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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755441">Before My Head the Moonlight Glows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odae/pseuds/Odae'>Odae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aang is a good friend, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, moon festival, more Sokka's feelings, there are kids</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:47:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odae/pseuds/Odae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Moon Festival has arrived. Sokka tries to celebrate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aang &amp; Sokka (Avatar), Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Before My Head the Moonlight Glows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>today is the mid-autumn/moon festival! I am most familiar with the chinese celebration of it, so I based this off of that, but I know it's widely celebrated in east asia (chuseok in korea, tsukimi in japan) so I tried to include other elements from those, too! anyways a big part of the festival is looking at the moon on the night that it's supposed to be brightest, so I figured it was a good opportunity to write another fic about Sokka's feelings :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The migration started the second week of the eighth month of the lunar calendar, when the trees were well on their way to turning brilliant shades of red and yellow and gold, and the chill with which each day began carried well past morning. All around the world, across the nations, the farmers in the fields, the merchants on dusty roads, and the young sailors at sea set their courses for home, hoping to gather with their families in time for the Mid-Autumn Festival. </p><p>Republic City was no exception. Residents and friends and family from far away moved in and out of the city in anticipation of the festival. One airship, notably, larger than any seen departing or entering the city’s airfield, and rumored to have been accompanied by a flying dragon, had landed only a few miles away, and a rumble with one of the last trains from the eastern Earth Kingdom announced the arrival of the world’s greatest earthbender. Some were even lucky enough to watch a single Water Tribe ship sail into port at Yue Bay.</p><p>The city buzzed in preparation for the festival. As vendors set up their stalls, and artisans pieced together their paper lanterns, residents saw Master Katara sailing over from Air Temple Island on the ferry, her belly as round and full as the approaching moon, making her way through the city’s bakeries on a search for mooncakes. Others claimed to have seen Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko amidst the market throng, carrying baskets full of taro and pumpkin and lotus roots and, begrudgingly on the Avatar’s part, a few bushels of hairy crabs. Those lucky enough to be close to them in the crowd claimed to have heard them bickering, the two men arguing over whether Water Tribe Councilman Sokka preferred roast duck over stir fried snails. They watched as the two heroes traipsed up the cobblestone road in the direction of the residential district where all of the bureaucrats and council members and civil servants made their homes.</p><p>The word around town was that they were all staying at Sokka’s house, or, rather, the house he shared with Zuko—they’d been married a few years now—and anyone who walked by it on the day of the festival found it consequently ablaze with activity. The sliding doors facing the street were flung open, seemingly to let in the autumn breeze, but actually to air out the smoke from Katara and Aang’s son, Bumi, attempting to show off his “candle-bending” for his little cousin, Princess Izumi. The two children were still underfoot as Katara and Zuko mixed together the fillings for dumplings and steamed crescent-shaped rice cakes, Southern Water Tribe Chief Hakoda and his second-in-command Bato hung lanterns from the rafters, and Toph concerned herself with supervising Aang’s serving of rice wine.</p><p>“C’mon, Twinkletoes, more than that! I thought we were celebrating,” she said loudly. “This is my one day off from the academy. You want me to spend it sober?”</p><p>“Toph,” Aang replied, his voice low, “there are little kids here.”</p><p>“Hey,” Toph said, swiping a cup from the tray between them, “not my fault you decided to have ’em.”</p><p>One way or another, the preparations were complete, so that when night fell and Sokka came ambling up the path from an emergency meeting with the transportation committee, he found a house aglow with light and laughter. </p><p>“Surprise!” everyone cried as he stepped through the door, and Sokka nearly dropped his bag at the volume of the cheer. He was bombarded then with the sights and smells of a full harvest feast laid out on the table, and all of the lanterns lit above him, and the delighted shrieks of Bumi and Izumi when they saw the shocked look on his face.</p><p>Zuko came forward to wrap an arm around his waist. </p><p>“Welcome home, Sokka,” he said warmly.</p><p>“I thought you said a ‘quiet gathering,’” Sokka said weakly. He plastered on a smile and faced the rest of the group. “I can’t believe you guys did all this. I mean—I really can’t believe it.”</p><p>Hakoda stepped forward, Izumi perched on his hip. “Zuko said you just wanted a small dinner with the family, but we thought we could do something a little better than that.” Izumi made a grab for the beads in his hair, but he gently caught her hand just in time. He grinned at Sokka. “Happy Moon Festival, son.”</p><p> </p><p>Sokka stood on the balcony. The sounds of laughter and dishes clinking against one another emanated from the door slid shut behind him, but he still faced the sky, his forearms balanced on the railing as he leaned forward, his head tilted upward so his eyes stayed on the moon. This was the point of the festival, after all: to celebrate the night the moon hung highest, fullest, brightest in the sky. Sokka didn’t want to waste it.</p><p>There came a scraping sound from behind him. Sokka pulled his eyes away from the moon briefly to find Aang standing on the balcony pulling the door closed once more. When he noticed Sokka’s gaze on him, he gave him his signature grin.</p><p>“Do you mind if I join you?”</p><p>Sokka shook his head and shuffled slightly to the left, letting Aang draw up beside him. </p><p>For a moment they just looked at the moon.</p><p>“You know, Sokka,” Aang said quietly, “this is supposed to be a happy festival.”</p><p>“I know,” Sokka said, his voice a little sour. “What, am I ruining it for everyone else?”</p><p>“You’re not ruining anything,” Aang said. When Sokka looked up at him, his eyes were soft with concern. “I think we all know it’s hard for you.”</p><p>Sokka sighed. “I guess.” His face tipped up once more toward the moon.</p><p>“It’s okay to still think about Yue,” Aang said, looking up, too. </p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Sokka rolled his shoulders once up and down his back. “I just—”</p><p>He paused, and Aang waited. </p><p>“It’s been so long,” he started slowly, “and so much has changed, and I spend so much time thinking about Izumi, and, you know, that I…” He trailed off and hung his head. “I think less about her.”</p><p>“Yue?”</p><p>Sokka nodded, his face still downturned. “Yeah. Yue.” He sniffed. “And I guess I feel…”</p><p>Aang waited for him to trail off before he looked up at the moon himself, his expression thoughtful. “Guilty?”</p><p>Sokka an errant pebble over the edge of the railing. “Yeah,” he finally said, “guilty.”</p><p>Aang laid a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“That’s normal,” he said. He smiled reassuringly when Sokka looked up at him.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Aang nodded slowly. “It’s another part of grief,” he said. “And it’s another thing to accept. Her life ended, but yours is still happening. It’s okay to spend more time thinking about the people and things that fill it.”</p><p>“Well, technically it didn’t <em> end</em>,” Sokka said. “More just—will go on forever in spirit form?”</p><p>“You know what I mean,” Aang said with a smile.</p><p>Sokka laughed lightly. Then a thought occurred to him. “Is it like that for you?” he asked. He tilted his head. “With the Air Nomads.”</p><p>Aang nodded. “I want to remember my people,” he said, “but it wouldn’t be right or fair to do it all the time.” He smiled lightly. “I have so many people in my life I care about, and who need me. Like Bumi and Katara. And you, Sokka.”</p><p>Sokka turned around to see Aang smiling kindly at him. There were tears in Sokka’s eyes as he rose and wrapped his arms around his friend, hugging him tightly. </p><p>“Thanks, Aang,” he whispered. </p><p>He could feel Aang nod against his back. “Of course.”</p><p>The moon still shone above them with the brightest white of glows as they pulled apart. Sokka wiped at his eyes and watched as Aang slid the door open.</p><p>He paused in the doorway and smiled. “Whenever you’re ready, Sokka,” he said.</p><p>Sokka peered at the scene over Aang’s shoulder. Katara was pushing Toph’s offer of rice wine away, gesturing crossly at her pregnant belly. Bumi was waving his chopsticks in the air, apparently regaling Bato and Hakoda with a wild story. His elbow knocked over a cup of tea, and Bato dove in with a napkin while Hakoda laughed uproariously. And Zuko sat next to Sokka’s empty seat, his hands around Izumi’s middle as she tried to wriggle onto the table and toward the bright slices of fruit in the middle. He looked, for just a second, away from Izumi and met Sokka’s eyes, smiling his small, sweet smile, before his attention was abruptly called back to the table.</p><p>“No, Izumi, not the orange—oh, no.”</p><p>Sokka laughed, low and long, and looked back at Aang. “Yeah,” he said, clapping a hand on Aang’s shoulder, “I’m ready.”</p><p> </p><p>The night stretched on, and the hour became late, as they sat gathered at the table, but nobody really noticed. Everyone was distracted by the quartering of the mooncakes Katara had purchased, taking the time to admire the perfectly spherical egg yolk balanced in lotus paste at each cake’s center, and the distribution of fruit around the table. Hakoda even made a big show of the slicing of the pomelo, cutting out the pieces with well-practiced strokes of his knife in order to keep the rind intact. Once all of the fruit was removed and placed in a bowl, he let Bumi watch as he dramatically sliced the rind into a hat, just big enough to be placed on the head of a dangerously drowsy Izumi, cradled in Sokka’s arms.</p><p>With a glance at his uncle, Bumi sneakily leaned over toward Aang and tugged twice on the front of his robes. Aang leaned forward so Bumi could whisper something urgently in his ear. A smile came across Aang’s face as he listened attentively, and he nodded once after Bumi was done. </p><p>“Why don’t you ask your uncle?” he said, looking toward Sokka. </p><p>Sokka turned away from where he had been listening to Hakoda and Bato recount a hunting story, and the table fell silent. </p><p>Bumi looked once more at his father. Aang nodded encouragingly, and Bumi squared his shoulders to address Sokka. </p><p>“Can you tell the moon poem, Uncle Sokka?”</p><p>Zuko and Katara shared a look.</p><p>“I don’t know if—”</p><p>“Maybe we—”</p><p>Sokka held up his hand, careful not to jostle Izumi. Zuko and Katara stopped. He turned to Bumi with a smile. “I’d be happy to,” he said. Izumi stirred in his arms, and he slipped the green-yellow hat off of her head. Her face was round and soft and pale against his dark skin, and he smiled tenderly at her peaceful expression. He looked back up to meet Aang’s gaze with wet eyes. He nodded. </p><p>
  <em> Before my head the moonlight glows.</em>
  <br/>
  <em> Bright and cold like fresh fallen snow.</em>
  <br/>
  <em> I gaze up, at the fair moon yonder roams.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And look down, head bowed, dreaming of home.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the poem at the end is called "quiet night thoughts" by the chinese tang poet li bai. if you'd like to, let me know what you thought in the comments or over on <a href="http://koala-otter.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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